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Heir Of Angels

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Chapter Eight: Blood in the Water

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X.X.X.X

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Once they set their sights on the Shadowhunters, the surrounding mundanes were thrown aside by an unseen, backbreaking force. The fire hydrants lining the street exploded, sending jets of water shooting through the air and bringing slabs of concrete with it.

Alec dodged one.

Then, a horrified exclamation cut through the screaming.

"They have Onyx!"

Alec didn't have time to nock an arrow before a dagger was thrown, one that he immediately recognized. It was only when Isabelle screamed for him to move that his frozen muscles jolted into action, and he ducked, feeling the velocity behind the throw as the weapon hurtled over his head.

He'd read about Onyx in the codex, as everyone did when they started their training. But he'd never seen it firsthand. Only the most powerful greater demons could forge a weapon made of the corrupted Adamas, those strong enough to overpower angelic energy. Once forged, it was as deadly to a Shadowhunter as Adamas was to a demon, poisoning angelic blood the moment it pierced the skin.

Alec shivered, taken so off guard by the deadly weapon and its implications that he'd almost, almost, fallen victim to it.

He straightened and let his arrow punch through his attacker's throat. But hardly a second later, he tore it slowly free with a drawn-out growl that sounded like gargling nails. The setback allowed Alec just enough time to re-activate his stamina rune before he delivered a second arrow, this time straight into the heart.

He dropped dead instantly.

"Aim for their hearts. They can recover!" Alec warned the others, barely finishing his sentence before Jace's voice called out sharply.

"Alec, behind you!"

Alec whirled around and reflexively kicked out, booting the rabid woman hard in the chest just before she swiped. The Onyx missed his throat by mere inches. He took swift aim, barely able to match the speed of the woman who got quickly recovered, tearing straight back toward him. When his arrow hit, she was flung backward by the halt of her own momentum and was sent crashing through the window of a Café.

He was breaking a sweat now as his eyes flitted from Raj, who was wrenching his staff free from an attacker's chest cavity, to Isabelle, who impaled two of them with each end of her own staff, then to Jace who sent one's hand flying, the dagger going with it. Then, for the first time, Alec witnessed the lethality of Onyx.

There was a splash, and Ben Greenlaw was dead seconds before Alec turned his eyes on him, perhaps before he'd even hit the ground. His brother Will reacted with anguished fury, ramming his seraph blade through the killer's spine, and twisting. He didn't bother to retrieve it, he just fell beside his brother and sobbed, leaving himself completely open to attack.

Clearly he didn't care.

It felt like an eternity before back-up arrived, with the rest of the tracking squad not far behind, but finally they felt the exertion grow lighter on their shoulders.

Along the street, the song of swinging seraph blades, the slosh of water against heavy boots, and the corrupt shrieks of the possessed mundanes resonated. When it was finally over, and the last of the possessed fell, a throwing spear sticking out from his chest, it felt as if the whole thing had gone on for hours when it couldn't possibly have been more than a few minutes.

The devastation left behind was far more substantial than the time it had taken to cause it.

Bodies were scattered everywhere in a sickening river of blood, some still twitching, and Alec's ears rang with the blaring car alarms and the gushing fire-hydrants. His chest heaved and his eyes surveyed the carnage. Through the mist of the spraying water, he caught sight of a female body, one marked with runes, and his efforts to remain calm went out the window.

"Isabelle?!" He called out loudly, whipping his head around in every direction his neck would allow. "Izzy!"

By the angel, this had to be a nightmare.

Then.

"I'm here!" Came a breathless shout that barely cut through the noise. "Where's Jace?" Isabelle limped over, her boot in one hand, and her whip—in staff form—resting against her shoulder.

"Jace!?"

"Over here!"

The Lightwoods shifted their gaze toward the sound to see their brother coming their way, picking shards of glass from his bicep. Alec's shoulders sagged in relief, and he felt the vice-tight tension in his chest loosen to see both his siblings unharmed.

"That's another one of my jackets ruined," Jace complained. Though his tone was calm, his body was trembling.

Raj Ali, who was sitting with his back pressed up against a mailbox, glowered at him, clearly furious with Jace's insensitive comment. They were looking at the aftermath of a massacre and he was worried about a jacket? Raj tried to bark a reprimand at him, but his broken jaw painfully protested.

"They got Rose Highsmith," Isabelle told them, still haunted by the image. "She didn't even make a sound. She just...fell."

Alec looked toward the spot where Ben laid, his blood washing away with the flow of the water. "Ben Greenlaw, too."

Isabelle's tears finally escaped. She didn't know which sight was worse, the gaping slit across his neck or the bag of hydrangea seeds that had fallen out of his pocket to soak in the bloodied water. Ben Greenlaw, the Institute's top Gardener, was practically married to his damn hydrangeas. It made sense that he would die with them too.

"Ave, Atque, Vale," Isabelle whispered as she watched the small current sweep the seeds down into a drain.

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Awakened by a commotion outside of her bedroom window, Clary sat bolt upright, and when her bearings came back to her, the events of the day were not far behind. She couldn't get up fast enough, scattering her tin of pencils across the mattress and cursing herself for sleeping so long.

She braced her hands flat against the ledge of the window, blinking away the stars that swam across her vision after standing up too fast. The tracking squad had returned, and they were in a shocking state. Most were covered in blood, some were limping, and others were assisting the Medics, carrying unconscious soldiers on stretchers. Clary whirled away from the window and hurried to the first floor. She ran past the ops department, and through the doors of the main entrance, her heart in overdrive as her eyes swept across the line of portals, searching the bedraggled troops for her friends.

Finally, Isabelle materialized. Followed closely by Alec, and then Jace, allowing her to release the breath she didn't know she was holding.

She darted over.

"What happened?!"

Isabelle's eyes snapped to hers, glazed with a horror that struck Clary with dread. "It possessed a hell of a lot more people than we thought," she explained. "They were carrying Onyx daggers."

"Onyx," she breathed, and the word felt like razor blades on her tongue. She looked toward the back entrance to the infirmary and felt her throat constrict at the sight of Will Greenlaw struggling to let go of his brother's hand. "Ben..." she whispered.

The Greenlaw twins were identical but their personalities couldn't be more different. Will was extroverted, he made friends with anyone and everyone, Clary included. He liked to belt out songs as he went about his business and his voice was so uplifting that not many people complained. He also taught weekend classes to the juniors, who idolized the guy massively.

Ben on the other hand was the more reserved brother, he went beet-red when his brother broke into song in his presence, or if he drew any kind of unwanted attention for that matter. Ben much preferred peace and quiet and the company of his plants than anything else. It was Ben who made the Institute's gardens look so beautiful. He took care of all the gardening and the maintenance of the greenhouse.

"How many others?" Asked Clary, finally averting her glassy eyes.

"Rose Highsmith and Eloise Bridgestock, as far as I'm aware," Jace told her gravely. "I couldn't count how many mundanes were slaughtered."

Clary squeezed her eyes shut in anguish, and Alec excused himself, his face pale. "I better go and alert Clave."

"I'll give mom a call and let her know we're okay." Said Isabelle. She smiled feebly at Jace and Clary then followed Alec inside.

Rose Highsmith was from England originally, but she had come to New York on bad terms with her family, who still held prejudices against Downworlders.

"When my grandmother found out I was seeing a Werewolf, she locked me in the wine cellar," Rose had told her once with surprising amusement. "But I escaped and took six bottles of her finest with me. I'm not sure which one she's more angry about."

Eloise Bridgestock was the Institute's weapon's advisor. The woman had a database for a brain and could effortlessly categorize weapons by order of size, weight, efficiency, the best ones for specific demon species, certain tactics, or even just for showing off.

All three of these equally brilliant souls had been lost in the space of a few hours.

In the space of Clary's nap.

"I should have been there to fight with you," she told Jace, her tone dripping with regret. "Maybe I could have used my sunlight rune–"

"I'm glad you weren't there. In fact, I thank the angel you weren't there," he cut in, shakily. "This demon, the way it corrupted those people. It's unlike anything we've ever seen before. That alone scared the hell out of me, but when I saw the Onyx my heart was in my mouth. I felt sick with the fear of losing Izzy or Alec. At least I didn't have to worry about losing you, too."

Clary's expression softened and she melted against his chest. The pound of his heart beneath the leather of his jacket was music to her ears. He rested his chin against the top of her head and held her there as the pandemonium whirred around them.

"Was there any sign of the demon?" She asked, after a moment.

"No. But I have a horrible feeling we haven't seen the last of it yet."

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